Foolish Dreams Can Destroy a Grown Man
by fantasybookworm08
Summary: Nathan reflects on the dreams he had had before Marni died, and how his life has changed because of her death. Lots of angst, you are forewarned. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: Repo! the Genetic Opera doesn't belong to me, nor do any of the characters. **

**A/N: So...This is my second Repo! fic, first one I've published on here. Rather angsty, for which I apologize, but then, Nathan is quite an angsty character. I also apologize if it's a bit too rambley. Please let me know what you think! :)**

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**Foolish Dreams Can Destroy a Grown Man**

Nathan sighed as he looked down on the peaceful face of his sleeping daughter. She had only just dropped off, eyes closing even as she struggled against the tide of sleepiness. Quietly, so as not to disturb her, he closed the book he'd been reading from, _The Silver Chair_. He'd wondered at first if the Chronicles of Narnia series was appropriate for her at six years old, but he remembered being not much older than that when he read them for the first time. Besides, she was thoroughly enjoying them, and had proclaimed them her "favoritest books ever". He smiled faintly, recalling the times he'd caught her checking the hall closet to see if there was a forest hidden in the back of it. He had worried for a short time whether it was smart to encourage fanciful dreams, but what else did she have? Nathan couldn't let her go outside. It was too risky, too dangerous. If she couldn't have the rest of the world, she may as well have the imagination to create her own worlds.

Moving slowly and quietly, Nathan bent over Shilo and gently kissed her on the forehead. She was already deep in sleep and didn't even twitch at the light touch. Nathan straightened up, turning off the bedside lamp and laying the book on the night stand. Taking a last look around the room for anything out of place, he made his way to the door and slipped out, gently shutting the door behind him. He hesitated, hating that it was necessary, but knowing it was for Shilo's safety, and locked the door. He couldn't take any chances, not after that morning last year. He'd woken up and gone to see if Shilo was up and ready for breakfast. Her bed had been terrifyingly empty, with no indication to show where she'd disappeared to. After several minutes filled with panicking and wild mental images of her broken, mangled body, he'd found her just outside the back door, crouched next to large black beetle and talking to it.

He had taken a few seconds to succumb to weak-kneed relief, then taken her quickly inside for a long, stern lecture. He'd tried to impress upon her how dangerous it was to go outside at any time, but he still wasn't sure how likely she was to follow this. She was too stubborn, like him, and too free-willed, like her mother. Marni.

Nathan paused in the hallway, his eyes on one of the holo-portraits. His beautiful Marni. She had always reminded him of a bird, about to fly away from him. She'd loved finding the little joys and beauties in life, in a world that was losing so much beauty, trying to regain it through desperate surgeries and replacements. But there was no replacing Marni. It wasn't even worth trying, to fill the black hole that she'd left behind her.

Nathan squeezed his eyes shut and hurried down the hallway, the blank, dead eyes of his love following him. He kept his eyes averted as he passed her in the wall, unable to look upon her right then. His heart was too raw tonight, her absence haunting his every breath.

He went down the steps without registering them, his feet moving automatically. He paused at the bottom, looking around in a daze, unsure of what to do. After a moment, he went into the living room, heading for his chair. He was abruptly halted when he stepped on a small doll hairbrush, trying not to swear loudly as he jumped back, rubbing his foot. Shi had left her doll stuff out again, despite his request that she clean it up after dinner. He sighed and began tossing the clothes, dolls, and accessories into their basket. One doll stopped him in his tracks, the glass eyes staring into his own.

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_"Marni? Are you ready for bed?" Nathan ventured down the hallway to the nursery. His wife had been working in the room again, though she tired more easily as the days wore on. Nathan worried about her, unsure of whether the fatigue was stemming from her growing belly, or if there was something else. But then, he was always worrying, as Marni teased him._

_ "Yes, nearly," she answered as he rounded the doorway to peer into the small bedroom. They had painted it a soft green color, a decision which had confused Nathan. He'd always thought that little girls' rooms were supposed to be pink. But Marni laughed at him, saying she refused to paint a room pink. Green was the color of plants, of life. She thought it was perfect for the room of a growing baby._

_ He found Marni sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by tiny clothes, a small brush, and a miniature version of the crib that was against the wall. In her hands was a small, dark-haired doll dressed in a half buttoned white dress. As he watched Marni worked the other buttons closed, her fingers carefully maneuvering the tiny fastenings. She held the doll up with a small smile, smoothing its long hair down._

_ "My grandmother gave me this when I was little. She's always been my favorite doll, and the only one I kept," she explained, carefully laying the little doll in her crib. She began to collect the clothes and accessories that were laying around, laying the outfits in a small basket. Nathan examined a small hand mirror from the pile of things before handing it to his wife._

_ "What, is the baby going to play with it?" he teased gently, watching her set the basket next to the doll's crib. Marni rolled her eyes, smiling in spite of herself._

_ "Well, once she's old enough, yes. Maybe when she's five or so," she answered, looking around for something to hold onto so she could get to her feet. "I want her to have something that meant a lot to me when I was younger. I used to dream about having a daughter to pass things onto."_

_ Nathan smiled slightly as he stood and scooped Marni into his arms, carefully straightening up. She blinked in surprise, then rolled her eyes again, smiling affectionately at him._

_ "I'm not going to break like the doll, Nate. I can still walk," she reminded him, even as she relaxed into his arms, resting her head against his shoulder. He could feel how tired she was and silently berated himself for not making her rest sooner. He said nothing out loud to her though, knowing she'd just brush him off. She appreciated his attention most of the time, but if he got too emphatic about pushing herself too hard, she got irritated with his hovering._

_ "I know, but I like carrying you," he said instead, smiling at her as he headed to their bedroom, the love of his life safely in his arms.

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Nathan blinked and shook his head slightly. The seven-year old memory felt like only yesterday. Like Marni had stopped breathing in his arms an hour ago. He made his way over to his chair and dropped into it, still cradling the doll in his hands. He stroked its hair gently as he looked up at the holo-portrait of her over the fireplace. It wasn't his favorite picture of her; she was too solemn in it, not at all like her usual self. But she was still as beautiful as ever, his Marni.

They'd had so many plans for their life, for their daughter. Marni had had so many things she wanted to do with Shilo, so many experiences she'd wanted to share with her. Even things as simple walking through a garden, smelling flowers, or baking cookies together on a rainy day. These were the memories Marni had looked most forward to creating.

For his own part, Nathan had just dreamed about watching his two girls. He'd hoped Shilo would turn out just like her mother, in looks and spirit. Two birds, taking off in flight together as he watched from the earth, hoping they'd return to him. He'd never dreamed of locking either of them up, keeping them behind bars. But so many things had changed as he watched Marni's life slip away before his eyes, knowing that if he didn't return to Shilo, he would lose them both, but unable to tear himself away. Unable to let himself escape the horror of watching her struggle for breath. Punishing himself for doing this to her, for killing that fragile spirit that had loved him.

And now…Look at him now. Committing murders for the one who he hated, who hated him. Living with the guilt and haunted memories of both his love and the hundreds he'd stolen the lives from. Keeping the one precious thing left to him locked in a small room, drugging her to keep her bound to him. Even as he hated himself for caging Shilo like this, he couldn't bring himself to stop. The thought of losing her felt like a vice around his chest, squeezing his breath from him, filling his heart with paralyzing fear. She was all he had left, besides memories and dreams. His childish dreams he'd had for his family, for all the happiness they would have.

No matter what it did to him, turning him into a jailer, a murderer, a monster, he wouldn't let her be hurt. He was her father, and fathers protected. He had failed in his duties as a husband, but he would never let Shilo down.

He looked back down and realized he had clenched his hand around the doll, crumpling her white dress. He relaxed his muscles, smoothing the wrinkles out of the folds. Shaking his thoughts away, shoving the guilt back as far as it would go, he placed the doll in her crib and started back up the stairs. He had no debts to collect on that night, a rare occurrence, and knew he should take advantage of his free night to catch up on sleep. As it was, he rarely slept peacefully, his nightmares plagued with faces that were free of any features but eyes. The eyes were always different, but all had one thing in common; a look of horror as they gazed upon their killer.

Nathan trudged down the hallway to his lonely bedroom, his shoulders bowed, his head down. He was the image of a broken man, a pitiful creature who had watched all of his dreams be dashed to pieces. Tomorrow he would continue living his charade, a shadow of the life he'd dreamed of. The life that had destroyed him as it fled.


End file.
